Pictures of life in Mexico/Volume 1/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
MEXICAN CATHEDRALS.
The interior of a cathedral in Mexico presents a blaze of almost oriental splendour; insomuch that a single scene may enable us to form an idea of the wealth contained in these superb structures, as well as in the numerous parish or district churches, throughout the republic.
Brilliant lights and gildings stained glass windows, painting's and shining-altar-pieces, grotesquely carved and gorgeously decorated ceilings and cornices, meet the eye on every side. The altar itself is a luxuriously finished miniature gold temple, with hidden recesses and jewelled folding-doors, surrounded by massive and costly balustrades, and adorned with numerous chased golden candlesticks, on cushions of crimson velvet with gold fringes. Highly coloured images of saints, splendidly dressed, illuminated missals, vases of fragrant incense, and founts of holy water, combine to bewilder the senses. Figures of the Virgin, richly jewelled and gilt, glitter on conspicuous elevations, wearing diamonds and emeralds, pearls and rubies, on their foreheads and about their necks. Gold and silver cups, vases, chains and boxes, magnificently attired priests, and solemn chanting, aid alike to dazzle the eye and charm the ear. While a numerous array of youthful attendants on the altar, stand with folded hands, or are employed in bearing candles, swinging censers of incense, carrying holy water for sprinkling, or sustaining the long trains of the priests' vestments.
The wealth of the Catholic church establishment in this country is astounding; and becomes more apparent when contrasted with the abject poverty and wretchedness of multitudes of the population, and, indeed, of no inconsiderable portion of the church congregations. It is surprising that sacrilegious robberies are not more frequent than they are among such a people; but even the vilest, who would not scruple to commit any other conceivable crime, yet hesitate to despoil the church. Great precautions, also, are taken to prevent it; the risk of discovery would be imminent, and the punishment certain and condign. Some depredations the cathedrals have suffered, however, both during the American war, and from native revolutionary governments; but it is vain to look for any evidences of scantiness or poverty in them at the present time.
In the great cathedral of the city of Mexico, only a portion of the valuables are exhibited to the public eye; the most costly, as is believed, being deposited in secret places, and securely guarded. Still, there are carvings, balustrades, and ornaments; with hundreds (one might almost say thousands) of candlesticks, cups, and other vessels, all of gold and silver: indeed, the splendour of the whole show is most dazzling. The high altar near the centre of the building at once attracts the eye: it is composed of massive silver, and completely covered with elaborately chased ornaments in solid gold. The space around this altar is enclosed by an extensive balustrade of gold and silver pillars, four feet high, and about four inches thick, with a hand-rail seven inches wide, having sculptured images, stationed at intervals upon its surface. The cathedral contains about three hundred feet of this balustrade, and the precious metals of which it is composed are but little alloyed with copper.
The cathedral at Puebla, also, is scarcely inferior in grandeur to that of the capital. It is elevated several feet above the level of the square in which it is situated; so that its appearance is most commanding. On the right side of the altar is an image of the Virgin Mary, nearly as large as the life, in a dress of richly embroidered satin. A crown of gold encircles her shining forehead, studded with emeralds of large size; strings of pearl hang from her neck midway to the ground; and her girdle is a perfect chain of diamonds and brilliants. The gold and silver candelabra that surround the altar platform, are so massive that it is almost impossible to remove them. Within a kind of temple, immediately above the altar, there is a smaller one, the door of which opens and shuts whenever the jewelled host is exposed—by supernatural agency, as is believed, but really by means of concealed machinery.
Besides the cathedral, there are above sixty other churches and religious seminaries in the city of Mexico, some of them almost as wealthy as the one described. And the church establishments in the cities of Durango, Guadalajara, Zacatecas, San Louis, Potosi, and Guanajuato, are nearly as remarkable for their riches and endowments. The amount of money and property thus constantly withheld from useful purposes throughout the state of Mexico, is immense; and, if only well applied, might relieve the government from its difficulties, by liquidating the just demands constantly being made upon the State, and lessening the various burdens that press so heavily upon the bulk of the inhabitants.
Very striking appendages of these edifices—for they may be seen upon the doors, and placarded at the corners of the opposite squares—are the characteristic "indulgences," so often published for the benefit of society and the emolument of the church. An indulgence; or remission of the punishment due for sin, may be either temporary or absolute; either partial or complete. A plenary indulgence is a remission of the whole punishment; a particular indulgence is a remission of a part only; and it scarcely need be said that a plenary benefit of this kind is considerably more expensive than a merely temporary one.
The language of these indulgences is abominably impious and profane. The amount of time for which sin is remitted; even to the month and the day; is distinctly set forth; and the agreement entered into between Heaven and the delinquent is affectedly clear and explicit in all its details.
The following is an exact copy of the form employed in such productions; which has often publicly appeared:—
"The faithful children of the church are forthwith informed; that the most benignant Bishops of Zacatecas and Durango have granted an indulgence of one hundred days for every half hour during which the images of the Virgin; of St. Peter, St. Michael; and St. Paul are publicly exposed; and another of three hundred days for each Ave Maria that may be said before any of them. Likewise that the most illustrious and gracious Bishops of Puebla, Jolisci, Potosi, and Tarazora, for themselves, and the most worthy and excellent Fr. Pablo Jesus Christi Mentezuacon for himself, have granted an indulgence of one hundred and fifty days for the utterance of every word of the appointed prayers to our most exalted Lady: for every step taken in her house; for every reverence performed; and for every word of the Mass which may be said by the priest or the hearers; and as many more days of indulgence are granted for every quarter of an hour in which the aforesaid images are exposed, in balconies, in windows, on walls, or on doors, for public adoration."
Sometimes the indulgence extends to an absurdly long period of years. The subjoined may be taken as an instance:—
"His Holiness the Pope, together with the Bishops of the districts of Michoacan, San Louis, and Guanajuato, have graciously granted an indulgence extending to fifty-three thousand five hundred years, twenty days, and eight hours, to the inhabitants of this city, on the occasion of the present Mass."
During the troublous and sanguinary times that preceded the first Congress of the republic in 1825, it was judged expedient by the authorities of a distant provincial cathedral, that the gold and silver utensils and ornaments, with the precious stones and other costly moveables, should be removed, for greater safety, to another church in the interior of the country. To this end, boxes and hampers, with false slides and secret contrivances, were made; so that, in the event of their capture or examination by robbers, the most valuable articles might remain undiscovered. The treasures were packed with the utmost care and secresy; and much deliberation was exercised in the choice of an escort to accompany the precious cargo. At length it was decided that one Tezarin—a worthy disciple of the church, who had been employed to command an escort under government—and his band, with several holy brethren from the cathedral, should be entrusted with the duty.
The caravan set out in due time upon their journey, with the utmost caution and privacy: the treasure being disguised under the appearance of a common bale of merchandize; and its guardians wearing the semblance of merchants with their escort. They proceeded for a considerable distance in security; but on the evening of the second day of their journey, much to their surprise, the party were assailed by a determined band of ladrones; they were disarmed, and their luggage was carefully examined. Not content with merely surveying the packages, however, the robbers, as if by a strange instinct, broke the boxes to pieces, and thus the hidden gems and most costly vessels were exposed to view. Everything was ruthlessly carried away; the prisoners were left behind, bound hand and foot, and the robbers made good their escape, leaving no traces whatever of their flight.
For a long period, the secret of this daring and successful sacrilege continued an impenetrable mystery. The chagrined priests left no method untried for the discovery of the plunderers and their booty, and to learn how their secret expedition had transpired (for it was evident that the thieves had been supplied with previous information), but all their efforts and inquiries were entirely unavailing.
At length the immaculate Tezarin himself was apprehended, and condemned upon a charge of theft and conspiracy; and while under sentence of death for these misdemeanours, he confessed, among other revelations, that the unaccountable robbery of the treasures of the church, just recorded, had been executed under his own direction. He admitted that the time and place of the occurrence had been planned by him; though he had submitted, for obvious reasons, to be bound as a prisoner with the rest. He also gave such information as led to the apprehension and execution of his accomplices.
The punishment of Tezarin was mitigated; and the principal treasures of the cathedral were, by his agency, recovered: but their history does not end here.
Although the jewels and golden vessels were restored to their old places in the cathedral, outbreaks and disturbances in its neighbourhood were of frequent occurrence. The hearts of the holy fathers were once more filled with doubts and fears; and so bitterly had they earned the experience of the past, that they had scarcely now the confidence to trust one another. While affairs were in this situation, news came that a church at no great distance from their own, had been entered and plundered of its richest treasures, and that a series of such robberies was to be apprehended. This report, which they had every reason to fear was but too correct, had the effect of greatly increasing the consternation of the priests.
The superior ecclesiastic and two of his favourites, had come to the determination, without the knowledge of their brethren, that a subterranean vault should be formed under a particular part of the cathedral; where, in time of need, the most valuable of the church's possessions might be deposited. With much ingenuity the desired receptacle was stealthily completed, and the entrance preserved a profound secret among the worthy trio. They had decided that the only means of access should be by a trap-door from above, closed with an invisible spring,— and the trapdoor was cunningly fixed, and the imperceptible spring duly set, accordingly.
The disturbances in the vicinity increased. Insurrection followed insurrection; outrage succeeded outrage; pillage appeared to become the order of the day. Neither life nor property was held sacred; and the cathedral itself was threatened with an invasion.
"We must watch vigilantly and incessantly, from night to morning, each in his turn," exclaimed the affrighted dignitary to his companions; "for we know not at what hour the peace of our Zion may be threatened by these sacrilegious depredators."
And watch they did, night and morning, in parties; in obedience to the orders of their chief.
Many a dire alarm shook the hearts of those devoted old priests, as they performed their tedious duty, through the midnight hours, under the arches and vaulted roofs of the old cathedral. Often did they give themselves up for lost, when the echo of footsteps near the square, or the noise of the wind as it shook the fretted doors of the building, saluted their listening ears. The murmur of the breeze as it swept through the deserted aisles; the wandering's of the rats beneath the hollow wainscotings; or the crackling sound of some expiring taper as it sank into its socket, vibrated upon their overstrained nerves like the rush of a throng of plundering léperos, or the coming tramp of a band of mounted ladrones. Even their own voices, and the echo of their footsteps, became strange to them, as they cowered together and gazed from time to time into each other's haggard and anxious faces. The anxiety and dread, at last, had the effect of imparting an unearthly tinge to their aspects; and they seemed, even to one another, to resemble those departed spirits who are doomed to keep a gloomy vigil through the hours of darkness, beside the well-remembered scenes of their misfortunes or their crimes.
At length, at a late hour, one stormy night, when the three ecclesiastics—to whom alone the secret of the vault was known—happened to be on the watch together, a sound as of a thronging multitude arose in the distance; which, as it drew nearer, was heard above the howling of the wind and the falling of the rain. The tramp of heavy footsteps approached the cathedra; shouts and vociferous cries burst forth on every side; the red glare of innumerable torches shone through the emblazoned windows. At the first alarm, the trio of monks proceeded to carry the portable boxes containing their choicest treasures into the vault below; and by the time the building was surrounded, they had concealed the whole.
Meantime, a series of thundering knocks assailed the door, which it was evident must soon give way beneath the repeated strokes: 
the massive bolts were forced, the hinges torn away, and an entrance effected. Just as the band of depredators rushed madly through the opening, the shaven head of the last of the three priests disappeared below the entrance of the vault; the trap-door was hastily closed, and the spring-was made secure.
But this movement had not escaped the searching eye of a lépero in the crowd.
The cathedral was thoroughly ransacked; many valuable articles were broken to pieces, and the fragments were passed from hand to hand; but a murmur of disappointment arose, erelong, that so few available treasures were to be discovered. The idea of a subterranean concealment at once flashed upon the minds of the robbers, and the supposition was confirmed by the lépero who had seen the closing trap-door. They immediately tried every crevice and broken stone, and beat violently on the floor with hammers and axes; but so well had the opening been concealed, that they were compelled to abandon the attempt in despair. Venting their disappointment upon the building, they demolished several of the painted windows, and carried off the choicest of the ornaments; and it was a miracle that the edifice escaped conflagration at their hands.The beating upon the floor, however, had broken the spring of the trap-door, the holy fathers' only avenue of escape; and when, on the disappearance of the invading crowd, they attempted to emerge, they found themselves, in spite of every effort, hopelessly immured in a dungeon that must soon prove their living sepulchre!
The remains of the three monks were only discovered—fast beside the treasures which in life they had loved so well—when the marble floor was taken up by some workmen, who were engaged in the restoration of the dilapidated and desecrated cathedral.